


A Darkly Slanted Mirror

by Eanna23je



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Good Peter, Hermione Granger-centric, Hogwarts, James Potter Lives, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Minor Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Multi, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2020-06-27 08:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eanna23je/pseuds/Eanna23je
Summary: She wondered how she knew in her heart of hearts that this was wrong, that somehow this wasn't the way things were supposed to be. That something had changed, and that somehow, it all had to do with her…





	1. PRELUDE: The Second War

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome readers to A Darkly Slanted Mirror! This is a cross-post from my fanfiction account and I will be revising as I repost chapters. Before we begin, I wanted to share a little of the story behind the story. I started this fic years before Rowling revealed James Potter's parent's names and before the literal series was finished. Some of ADSM "facts" don't line up with canon, but you aren't here for canon, are you? You're here because you, too, have wondered "what if?" What if Hermione fell back through time, but lost her memories of the future in the process? How would her arrival in the late 70's impact the Marauders and what's more, how would she face the consequences should her memories resurface?
> 
> I didn't set out to write an epic, but through the years the scope of this story grew. I grew up with it, and that is reflected through our favorite character's story arcs as they're challenged in new, sometimes painful ways. All this to say, if you are a sensitive reader, you may not want to begin this journey. While I promise plenty of lighthearted Marauder fun, there are equal amounts of darkness with light. For those of you who have been read and supported ADSM over at FF, I wanted to thank you for all your love and endless encouragement! You guys are the reason I didn't give up and am currently revising while finishing ADSM. This story is for you.

All was silent save the pounding thud of her heartbeat pushing the blood rushing through her head. Her magic flowed in time with her pulse, now struggling to pull the two wizards to safety with each crackling _POP_.

No matter how quickly they Apparated, the Death Eater followed.

And Hermione was grasping to hold onto the magic draining from her like a bad leak.

They had the locket. They had the Horcrux and the Death Eater knew it.

To give up now would be to give up the months they'd already sacrificed to find it.

To give up would mean to give up their lives.

Hermione Granger was not the most powerful witch of her time. She wasn't naturally talented like the infamous wizard clinging to her hand now.

Harry Potter's magical store was largely untapped, something Hermione had always secretly envied. Because no amount of knowledge and brains could save them from the fix they found themselves in now.

She was fading. Fast.

A scream escaped her as she suddenly lost control, unaware of her best friends' struggle to keep up.

They fell to the grassy earth in a tangled heap, so hard the breath was stolen from her lungs.

Once Hermione managed to take several lungfuls of cold air, she lifted her head and braced against the pain clenching her chest.

Only after the dull ringing in her ears began to fade, did Hermione realized someone was screaming in agony.

Pushing her curls back from her face, she caught Harry's gaze… and then noticed Ron's bleeding body in his arms.

_Splinched._

"Ron," she sobbed as she crawled on hands and knees. Her limbs trembled.

_So weak._

She wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. But the sight of Ron bleeding out beneath Harry's hands ripped something inside of her so violently, Hermione found she was screaming too.

Upon flinging herself to his side, Hermione pointed her want to him and whispered the spell she'd rehearsed so many times before their quest began. She had memorized so many words, so many books, to make certain they would be prepared. She'd thought of every eventuality, every logical turn of events, every scenario.

_Not this._

Her own voice taunted her in her head.

Distantly she registered Harry's voice shouting overhead. She couldn't focus on his words. It was too much, too fast. Her other hand grasped for the metal object beneath her shirt, unable to wrench it free with her weak hand.

_No time._

_POP_

The Death Eater had followed them.

Harry had left Ron on the ground and was now attempting to save their lives against the influx of hexes being sent their way.

Hermione struggled to maintain the spell, ignoring her already depleted magical core. Why wouldn't Ron's wounds heal? Why was he still screaming?

Flashes of light illuminated the night and a brushing crackle of magical energy snapping angrily around them cued Hermione to the truth she wasn't willing to acknowledge.

The Death Eater who'd caught up with them was wounded but still older and stronger than any of them except for Harry.

"Hermione, get up! We need to go!"

She ignored Harry's plea as he lashed spell after spell.

_POP_

_POP_

Two more black-robed figures had followed.

Blood began to gush from Ron's mouth and Hermione coud hardly see through her tears. Her spell—her magic—was failing.

One of the Death Eater's fell to Harry's wand, but the others rallied.

Ron's screams faded. His skin had grown cold. His beautiful blue eyes locked with hers and the silent message within them was unmistakable.

Hermione choked, "No! I won't leave you!"

Harry's hand wrapped around her wrist and Hermione was too weak to fight as he pulled her up and away. His last spell caused the world to explode in silvery blue light.

 _A Patronus charm_.

Hermione caught one final glimpse of Ron's vacant stare and then— _POP._ Faster than Hermione had managed, Harry Apparated them through an endless stream of locations, a magical trail that only someone as powerful as he could manage.

She was too numb to the world to wonder how exactly Harry managed to lose the Death Eaters. All she knew was they had to stop and so they did, eventually. In what felt a moment and a lifetime, Harry brought them deep into the forest. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Hermione recognized this to be the wilds she'd pointed out on their map only the night before.

It would be a good place to lie low after they found and took the locket.

It was a good hiding place regardless.

The trees shadowed the earth. The forest was peaceful.

Their legs buckled and Harry barely caught her as their knees sank into the muddy earth. Rain fell in frigid drifts overhead, quickly soaking them. Hermione muffled her sobs in Harry's chest. His hands, still covered in Ron's blood, caressed her back as Harry whispered nonsensical things to her ear. He stumbled over promises of safety and love, his voice hitching with unshed tears.

_No where is safe._

"He's dead, Hermione," was the first thing she truly heard. "There wasn't anything we could have done."

His voice was too calm. How could he be calm? How could he say these things! Her sobs may have faded but Hermione couldn't listen to this. She pushed away from his warm chest and met Harry's emerald eyes.

Rain streaked their faces, matting Harry's unruly black hair over his forehead. Fresh cuts and bruises marked his face and his spectacles had cracked but Hermione couldn't stand the pity or sorrow in his gaze. "Hermione..." he began.

"No!" Thunder cracked the sky as Hermione somehow managed to stand on unsteady legs. Her hand trembled as she pointed her wand at Harry's chest. "How could you leave him?"

Harry flinched at her words, but it was too late. She couldn't stop the bitterness, the heartache from overflowing.

"Why didn't you take him with us? Ron was Splinched! He's not _d—_ he's _not._ " Choking on her words, Hermione stumbled and caught her fall on a nearby tree.

Harry said nothing in his defense. She wished she didn't hate him for it. She needed him to fight back right now, she needed him to tell her they could go back and get Ron and... Hermione logically knew Harry had if anything just saved their lives and the entire Wizarding world as a result. But she couldn't acknowledge that. Because in that same instant Hermione knew what had happened to Ron was _her_ fault.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry took slow cautious steps as he approached, his green eyes pleading with her, the same way Ron's had pleaded for her to take Harry and _go_.

"I—" her voice broke and thunder crackled overhead again. Hermione lowered her wand. The world began to shift in and out of focus as she struggled to blink past the fog rolling over her mind.

_So damn weak._

The rain beat roughly against her skin, the only thing keeping her awake enough to say, "Going back. I can't leave him, Harry. My fault…" Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she tried to Apparate.

She heard the unmistakable, _Stupefy_! from Harry's lips.

His arms caught her centimeters from the ground.

* * *

Her limbs felt like lead when she woke to the crackling sound of the radio. Blinking past what felt like the worst mental hangover she had ever experienced, Hermione focused on the familiar peak of the tent she'd bought three months ago. They had been so confident of success then, though uncertain of what awaited them. Still, they had believed, no matter what happened, they would conquer anything because they were together.

Tears filled her eyes the moment the memory of yesterday crashed into her mind.

_Ron, I'm so sorry._

Something fell to the floor near her cot and drew her attention. It was the radio, she realized, now zipping in and out of frequency before settling on soft white noise.

"Hermione?" Harry entered the tend and rushed to her side, his lanky frame crashing on the edge of the cot as he wrapped her hand tightly in his own. His emerald eyes were swollen and red and she knew he had been crying.

"Harry…" Tears spilled down her cheeks. She couldn't erase the image of blood gushing from Ron's lips... lips she hadn't had the chance to kiss.

_Too late._

"Harry?" she attempted again. She needed to know for certain. "Is he…is Ron dead?"

Harry's jaw clenched and his grip on her hand tightened as he nodded. "We couldn't have done anything."

Her eyes widened and her lips parted as something between a moan and a sob passed her throat unbidden.

_If I hadn't lost control…_

"Hermione?" Harry leaned in, his lips pressed into a thin line before his expression hardened and he said, "Hermione, listen to me. I know how you feel right now, believe me. Ron was my brother. But he would have wanted us to keep going. Remember the promise we all made before this started? There are too many people out there who will suffer if we don't get finish this, and I can't do it without you."

_Too many people…_

How many lives had been lost to this war? How many others would die before the end? The list of those she had known was maddening enough, but there had been so many others. So many who had lost their lives and their absence still affected the people she loved.

_Like Sirius._

_Like Harry's mum and dad_ …

The thought was enough to clear Hermione's mind past her shock. A familiar, logical and infuriatingly calm Hermione was taking control once again.

Harry was right. They couldn't lie in their grief or they'd fall right into the trap Voldemort had waiting for them.

Without Hermione, Harry would be alone, just like he'd intended before she and Ron pushed themselves into his plans. The Golden Trio had faced Death together, she had reminded Harry. That was how they survived. Now they were just Harry and Hermione and she needed him far more than he did her.

Blinking past fresh tears Hermione gripped Harry's hand tightly back, as she met his gaze with fresh determination. Harry smiled and Hermione understood the pleading in Ron's eyes now. He'd been asking her to fill in the gaps. She had to be strong.

"We'll mourn Ron later," she began. "But first, we're going to take from _You-Know-Who_ _,_ everything he took from us. We won't let any of them all die in vain." Her voice softened towards the end, yet Harry seemed to hang onto her words.

She turned to take in their surroundings. The tent was the same as they had last left it, as if nothing was amiss, save the darkness radiating from the locket innocently sitting on the bedside table.

_We'll destroy the locket first._

Harry's eyes were far away when she turned back to face him. It was a look Hermione was very familiar with. She hadn't understood that look before, but she did now. Harry was thinking about everyone that had been taken from him, from his parents to Sirius. And her heart cracked to pieces knowing this was a part of Harry's past he'd never be able to escape.

The Savior of the Wizarding World looked less like a hero and more like a grieving boy right now.

Yet Hermione believed in him.

Especially now.

All the knowledge and wisdom and logic she had hoarded were pointless in a war like this. No, she didn't have the power to fight like Harry. She'd never been much of a dueler, and she wasn't marked by anything other than the fact Harry Potter was her best friend. She was seventeen-year-old Hermione Jean Granger, and she would be their strength, even if she had to pretend.

"Harry?" she softly inquired.

A slow smile ghosted his features as he spoke his thoughts aloud. "I was thinking about that Christmas we spent at Grimmauld Place. Pulling pranks with Sirius against the twins. I don't think I've ever laughed so much as I did that Christmas." His eyes met hers as his smile faded. "It's not fair, Hermione...how many have been taken. Not just from me, either. We've all lost someone. It's not going to stop until _he's_ dead, is it?"

White noise from the wireless crackled against the rumble of thunder outside their tent. Hermione chewed on her lower lip, as Harry bowed his head and adjusted his spectacles. She needed to say something and she didn't want to talk about what they were about to face any longer.

"Do you ever still wonder what things would have been like?"

Harry's head perked up as though startled, then paused before replying, "You mean if _he'd_ never…"

"Murdered your parents," Hermione finished.

A slow transformation took over Harry's face. She watched in wonder as premature lines faded and his green eyes shone the more brightly as he answered, "I've wondered about that every day since I was old enough to understand what their deaths meant. Even before I knew they'd died sacrificing their lives for mine... Sometimes I hate how I've had to rely on what other people tell me about them. The memories I have are so few. But I always used to daydream about them and what it would have been like..."

"You could have grown up with Ron and the Weasley's long before Hogwarts," Hermione offered with a forced grin.

"Yeah…" Harry's mouth quirked up to the side and a spark of mischief flashed through his gaze. "I could have shown Malfoy a thing or two about flying our first year."

"We'd have spent holidays at your parent's home, taking turns whenever we didn't want to deal with noise at the Weasley's."

Harry's smile turned genuine as he added, "Sirius would have tried teaching me all his tricks for _baiting birds_."

Hermione shook her head at the thought of Harry's godfather. The man had been infuriating and endearing. They had butted heads more than not, usually when he attempted to corrupt Harry's humility. Looking back, Hermione regretted every harsh word she'd ever said to him.

Harry's face grew pensive, wistful then. "I know one thing, none of them would have let me face Voldemort like this. Dad was an Auror. I bet he and mum would have hunted us down the moment they found out what we were trying to do. Then they would have gone after Voldemort's head."

Hermione hesitated. "Harry, I don't think they would have let Voldemort live long enough to challenge you in the first place."

Harry nodded and their gazes locked. "They would have loved you," he said with a smile.

Hermione squeezed his hand and returned his smile as best she could.

Harry glanced back at the wireless and, giving her hand a final squeeze, moved to switch off the device. Setting it back on the table next to the locket, his fingers briefly grazed the Horcrux before meeting Hermione's gaze. Offering a look he had only ever given her, his best friend, Harry said, "I'd better get back out there. I've been too worried about you to watch for Death Eaters. And I know my protection charms are a patched up mess compared to yours, Hermione."

She smiled past the pain and the lingering need to cry, pushing the confidence he needed into her reply. "Undoubtedly."

Harry beamed at her before walking to the tent opening and lifting the flap.

"Harry?"

He turned back expectantly, eyebrows raised and hidden by his messy black hair.

"Constant vigilance."


	2. PRELUDE: Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Harry are alone now but determined to go on. Hermione is willing to do whatever necessary to keep Harry safe, even if that means sacrificing herself.

With Harry gone, Hermione was finally able to drop the façade and allow her mind to stew over her preposterous thoughts.

The idea had come long before this of course, only triggered now because of her conversation with Harry about the past.

For the tenth time in as many minutes, Hermione glanced up to be certain Harry remained outside their tent. Only then did she dare pull the hourglass from beneath her shirt to watch the magical swirl of sand and endless potential dance within.

She shouldn't have taken the time turner from Professor Dumbledore's desk. But it had been one of the last things Hermione had done, those turbulent and confusing final days of Sixth Year. When Professor MacGonnagal darted from the former headmaster's office to speak with Harry before he could reach the door. Hermione hadn't paused to really _think_ at the time, a very rare moment for her.

She would later blame it on grief, as she'd brushed her fingers over Fawkes' ashes. She remembered how helpless she'd felt, how afraid. It was fear that had urged her to the other side of Professor Dumbledore's desk. She'd found it in the first drawer she tried. The time turner had been the very same she'd used in Third Year and it had been practically waiting for her. She had slipped it in her pocket and returned to her seat before anyone noticed.

Now, half a year later, Hermione unwound the chain from her neck and lifted the hourglass to the lantern light. This was one of the few secrets she had kept from Harry, from everyone. After Sirius' death she'd watched her best friend go through a depression she did not think he could come out of. Harry had recovered, but Hermione had thrown herself into preparing for the worst. And later, once she returned home to her parents for the last time, she'd thought hard on the subject of time.

After selling her grandmother's antique jewelry her mother passed to her on her fifteenth birthday and depleting her allowance in Gringotts to purchase the supplies she'd need, Hermione remembered Dumbledore's warnings.

_There are consequences for changing time_.

Men went mad when faced with their past and future selves. Paradoxes were tirelessly sorted out by fate and most who'd meddled with time, from what Hermione had read, died mysterious or horrible deaths.

Done correctly and under Ministry scrutiny, time travel could be used for useful things, like allowing Hermione to take the extra classes she wanted.

Yet after Sirius Black had fallen through the Veil, Hermione met Death for the first time. And Hermione was afraid, not for herself but for Harry. If Harry fell to Voldemort, Hermione would risk all the warnings Dumbledore had given her and unravel the fabric of time to bring him back.

She hadn't been able to save Ron, but what if she found a way to save others? What if she truly were able to give them all the lives they had been meant to lead in the first place? Before evil perverted fate's purest plan?

_It's a lovely fantasy,_ came the bitter thought. _Or is it only fantasy?_

What if Dumbledore's warnings were only to protect her, to scare her into submission? Their beloved Headmaster had cared deeply for them, but Hermione had also watched him use people like Harry to manipulate events in the war.

Had his caution been for other reasons? Had they been from personal experience?

The light rainstorm increased its pace overhead, and her thoughts came quicker.

_What if we could undo our mistakes and Dumbledore's?_

_I wish I could go far enough to give Harry the people he needs. He should have had his whole family fighting with him and not just me..._

What had she truly accomplished in the end?

Thunder rumbled distantly. The sound echoed in Hermione's ears and she realized how foolish her train of thought had become. How could she even consider such a giant leap through time?

It was proven no one could go farther back than several hours of their past without causing irrevocable damage. Although there was no real way to tell if anyone had been able to change the timeline, she supposed.

Since recovering her time turner, Hermione had been unable to test it. Especially while keeping up with the other chaos that was her life. It was only a preventative measure, she reassured herself. With that, Hermione curled her fingers over her time turner and looked for Harry.

The faint outline of his lanky frame was missing from the front of the tent. Hermione could hear nothing beyond the light mist of rain tapping the tent canvas.

Rising from her cot, Hermione changed out of her filthy clothes and into a pair of jeans, a jumper and trainers before wrapping her cloak around her shoulders. She recovered the time turner as an afterthought, the warm hourglass comforting in her palm as she stepped through the opening and into the rain.

The forest was so dark, she could barely see two meters. It was long past midnight, yet the clouded sky held star and moonlight at bay.

Hermione's fist tightened against the tiny hourglass in her hand as she called, "Harry?"

Silence.

The forest was too quiet. Not even insects or animals disturbed the eerie peace.

Hermione swallowed as she pulled her wand from its holster to check the wards Harry had set around their camp. It was a small comfort his charms were nowhere nearly as precise as Hermione's. Yet more disturbing, they were firmly intact, and that meant her best friend must not have left.

"Harry?" she dared call louder, as she walked around the tent. Her eyes strained to see through the night black as pitch, yet she was too wary to cast _L_ _umos_.

A limb cracked in the forest ahead and her head snapped to follow the sound. She froze and waited.

Harry must have moved the wards farther to give him space to pace and to think, she rationalized…

Or he needed the loo.

She continued a list of possible scenarios, each less likely than the last. All the while, Hermione couldn't shake the chill that overtook her as she stepped farther into the forest.

That was when she happened to see it.

Distant flashes of color revealed the war ensuing beyond their wards.

"Harry!" Panic stole her reason as Hermione darted past the protection of the wards and into the storm.

Over the clash of thunder, the shouts of Death Eaters fell deaf.

Hermione did not pause to think as she ran, allowing the gusts of light to guide her way. Her heart pounded an uneven drumbeat in her chest. The strain of tapping into her magical reserves left her breathing ragged before she'd reached the battle. Yet she couldn't think about anything except for Harry. The storm, thankfully, hid her approach.

The Chosen One was holding his own against three Death Eaters as they rushed him. Still, others watched on from the forest. It was obvious they were trying to subdue Harry rather than kill him. That was a job only their Master would allow himself.

Hermione's grip tightened on her wand as she silently cast _Protego_ at Harry. She released a breath as her shield stopped a scarlet curse from striking his back.

Harry turned toward Hermione and shouted, "Go!" His features clenched the moment he realized that by warning her, he'd given her away.

Hermione ignored Harry's plea. She had already released several more spells, one catching a tall Death Eater by surprise. He hit the ground with an agonized cry and several heads turned at once her direction.

"Kill the Mudblood!" The screeching voice was unmistakable. What was Bellatrix Lestrange doing here?

Hermione resisted the urge to go after the Witch who killed Sirius.

"No, Bellatrix! The Dark Lord has plans for her!" A haggard-looking Lucius Malfoy shouted over his sister in-law's mad ravings.

"Run Hermione! GO!" Harry screamed.

She knew he was right, knew that she was still too weak to be of much help. She should go, somehow get help... But each time she tried to listen to the voice of reason echoing Harry's cries, Hermione couldn't leave. Instead, she stood her ground and dodged several streams of hexes. The curses missed her by a hair's breadth each time.

_Stupefy,_ Hermione thought the jinxes as quickly as she could. Ron's face burned at the back of her mind and urging her to move faster than she'd ever been able before. She kept an eye out for Harry and determined to keep her promise.

_Together._

Despite the adrenaline coursing through her system, Hermione couldn't stop the Death Eaters from pressing harder against her.

The spells were coming too quickly.

The familiar strain was beginning to pull at her senses, seeping from her pores.

Hermione gasped as the first jinx hit her knees, knocking them out of place. She screamed and barely managed to cast a protective shield as she whispered the counter-curse.

_POP_

She screamed when two thick arms lifted her off the ground from behind.

_POP_

_POP_

The golden signatures of Aurors rushed into the fray. How they'd found them, Hermione didn't know. Harry must have sent a Patronus, came the errant thought as she watched the scene from the awkward angle she was being carried away.

There were more Aurors than she expected. Some took off dark cloaks to reveal familiar faces.

_Not just Aurors, the Order._

Together, the Light side worked to disarm the Death Eaters who had attacked Harry.

Their game was over.

Hermione glimpsed as Remus Lupin grabbed a hysterical Harry from behind, restraining him. He was screaming her name. "Hermione! Hermione no! Let go of me damn it! Let go of me! Hermione! Hermione!"

Why was he so upset when she was fine?

Hermione turned to the Auror who had caught her in his arms, only to feel a sickening gust of hot breath against her cheek.

"You're sweet enough to eat love," the Death Eater growled, "shame the Dark Lord needs you unspoiled…for now."

Her blood ran cold as sharp teeth, accompanied by breath that smelled of rotting meat grazed the skin of her shoulder but did not pierce the skin.

_Fenrir Greyback._

Reality came rushing down on her then. She was being carried away by the other Death Eaters, by _a werewolf_.

She reared her head back as hard as she could against his while kicking at his groin. Greyback lost his tight hold on her only a moment. It was enough.

Hermione jumped out of his arms as he stumbled and ran as quickly as she could. Mud and roots slowed almost immediately deterred her escape. Still, she ran, casting stray curses she prayed hit their mark.

Until she heard a familiar vicious cackle and saw a red stream of magic rush before her. Hermione collapsed onto her attacker, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Filthy Mudblood," Bellatrix hissed as she shoved Hermione off of her and into the mud.

"Hurry Bella!" Lucius Malfoy urged.

The shouts of Aurors were not far behind them.

"What about the locket?" Bellatrix giggled as Lucius pulled Hermione's limp body into his arms.

"We have our prize, for now," Lucius replied.

Fenrir had not come yet, at least. Hermione hoped the Aurors had already hexed the bastard to oblivion. Tears were leaking from Hermione's eyes. Her fists were still clenched over her broken wand and the time turner and she realized what she had to do. If Voldemort got his hands on a time turner, Hermione was certain she would wake to a world with no Muggles left.

She thought of the spell, just as Malfoy Apparated.

_No!_

The sky was lighter here. Yet, only able to glare at the sky, Hermione had no clue where they had taken her.

Bellatrix was cackling. "Filthy Mudblood whore! The Dark Lord will show you how your precious wittle family will be treated! He'll kill them slowly and make you watch! Then, he'll make you scream until wittle Blood Traitor Potter comes rushing in to save you!"

"Bella…" Malfoy's flat tone implied that he'd clearly had enough.

Hermione had done very little wandless magic. It was dangerous if done incorrectly and Hermione did not trust her own inner power enough to try it. Now she had no choice. She screamed the spell silently, with greater intent and purpose than she had wished for anything before.

Lucius never saw it coming. Her wand flew from Bellatrix's grasp and into her hand, long enough for her to speak the counter curse keeping her frozen. She then jammed the tip of her wand into Lucius Malfoy's windpipe.

He dropped her with a strangled cry.

Hermione rolled to her feet and once began to run.

"You filthy Mudblood!" Bellatrix howled as she gave chase, "How dare you defy us!"

Despite her brief victory, Hermione knew she was too weak. She knew Bellatrix was too fast. The Pureblood lunged at Hermione and the younger Witch backed both of them against a nearby tree. A tangle of limbs, nails, and screams later, the Witches fought with their bare hands now.

Hermione refused to let her win. She couldn't fail Harry, and couldn't betray Ron's promise!

A second wind gave her the energy she'd lost and with more force than she had intended she kneed the Witch, called the strange wand to her hand and shouted, " _Crucio!_ " The Unforgivable fell from her lips with all the wrath Hermione had felt watching Ron fall because of _her_ weakness. A sickly cold feeling sank beneath her skin and dug its claws deep and Hermione knew she would never be the same after this.

Bellatrix laughed in the beginning, then she screamed. Her mad gray eyes widened with surprise and finally fear when Hermione did not stop.

Hermione could barely find the will to stop when all she could see was Ron's bloody broken body behind her closed eyes. And then the thought of all who had fallen because of the ones who chose Voldemort's cause: _Frank and Alice Longbottom,_ _Sirius Black, Lily and James Potter…_

" _Petrificus Totallis_!" Hermione finished and scrambled to her feet. Then she ran.

She didn't know exactly where Malfoy had brought them, didn't know where the Order would have taken Harry. Flashes of locations ran through her mind. An odd emptiness filled her as she realized none of these places were safe any longer. Not even Hogwarts.

Her vision blurred with tears and she lifted the hand that held her time turner to wipe them away. In that instant, she saw too late the rippling edge of a dark cloak and felt the force of a sledgehammer bash against the back of her head.

She crashed to the ground and the time turner smashed in between her palm and her chest.

A blinding light consumed her, colors she had never seen before dancing along the fringe of her vision.

A loud sickening roar began, unnatural and increasing in speed and volume until her screams were lost in it.

Until she felt the gush of blood matte her hair and chest and the light closed in.

Until all she could see or feel was heavy, oppressive darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to my cross-posting/revised version of A Darkly Slanted Mirror. Thanks so much for reading! Leave a comment if you fancy and see you at the next chapter!


	3. PART 1: Darkness Shades Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She is lost...

Death was easy, a blanket of mind-numbing darkness.

Until the darkness gave way to pain—a pain so intense, she knew she couldn't be dead. The dead did not feel. So why did she ache so? And if she wasn't dead, why couldn't she open her eyes?

Slowly, she tried to move her broken body. Her fingers twitched and then closed over shards of glass lodged into her fist. 

A voice cried out that she belatedly realized was hers. 

The shock made her come fully aware. 

She blinked back tears and lifted a hand to shield her gaze from the coming dawn. The sun was warm on her skin, would have been pleasant if she could think past her pain. 

Voices carried with the wind, birds singing their morning song, a barking dog in the distance, the grind of engines on a small country road.

The sky was clear but her clothes were wet, soaked through.

Everything was too calm and pleasant. 

Something wasn't right.

Something was _very_ wrong.

She bit her lip as she pushed up on her good hand to take in the blood matted grass around her. She stared at it and lifted her glass puckered hand to touch the back of her head.

At the sharp twinge of pain, she hissed and pulled her hand back to find blood on her fingertips. Blood ran down her hand from her cuts.

She glanced down at her jumper and gasped at the sight of more glass shards sticking through her jumper, just over her heart.

This was why it ached to breathe.

Groaning at the rush of, or rather lack of blood to her head, she found the strength to stand.

She was stronger than she'd first thought.

She stumbled through a light jog, trying to escape this wrong place, covered in her own blood.

The taint of evil still clung to the grassy hill.

She ran away from the sounds of children, dogs, and cars. No one could find her like this. Though she couldn't recall why, she knew she needed to run, hide— _always stay hidden_ —if she wanted to survive.

_Constant vigilance…_

Where had she heard that before?

Spots of black dotted her vision, the darkness calling her back. and she felt as though she were about to upturn her stomach with each step.

The hill she finally crested was not very high, yet the vantage point revealed a quaint, small village of cottages and few streets increasingly busy with the rising sun. She swayed, blinking against the light. A cold sickly feeling swept over her. Something deep inside of her knew she'd never seen this place before. Something about this whole place was _off._

She needed to find…to find…

She frowned, unable to reach past the very solid and firm barrier that encased her mind—her memories.

And then she realized she was lost in more ways than one.

* * *

With the wind at his back, slipping through his robes and sliding through his hair, he climbed higher and higher. Quidditch-toned muscles gripped the Nimbus with the ease of a Wizard who'd lived part of his life in the skies. The new broom was even faster than the last, fond as he had been of "Old Bess."

With a sky this clear and perfect, the wind heavy enough to give him an extra punch, James was certain life didn't get any better than this.

Of course, Mum didn't know he had snuck out of his room just before dawn that morning, to test out his reward for making _near-_ perfect marks last term at Hogwarts.

James grinned as he burst through clouds so cold they stole his breath away. He _might_ have been in too big a hurry to put on the proper robes for such a climb.

 _Yep, Mum would have a fit_ , _which is why it's best to fly before breakfast._

Clenching his thighs hard against the broom, James let his arms flail free on either side of his torso, teetering in that perfect weightless balance over the world.

And then he was falling.

"WOOOOHOOOO!" His cry fell to laughter as James tumbled against and with the currents, plummeting faster the closer he approached solid ground.

The world was spinning and the rush had his adrenaline pumping a vicious roar with the wind in his ears.

James narrowed his gaze at the fast-approaching the emerald hills that made up his very spacious back yard.

At the last possible second, he forced his arms together, defying death once again. His muscles strained for control just before James caught the broom handle with both hands and felt the brush of grass against his knuckles.

He laughed again, at the fact his spectacles were now fogged over from the sudden heat below the clouds.

Not being able to see could definitely be a foreseeable problem.

_No good Prongs! Use your head, mate!_

A grin tilted his mouth as he wondered how much fun would it be to learn to fly blind. What would everyone say the first game against Hufflepuff, if Gryffindor's team captain turned out to be suddenly blind due to a faulty potions experiment? He and Sirius were always dabbling around for new methods for their prank wars against the student body.

Lily Evans had openly remarked they were wasting theirs and everyone else's time in Potions. And they ruined more cauldrons in Slughorn's than any other student except for Peter. He welcomed the familiar tightening in his chest at the thought of Lily's face at his newly perceived handicap. Would she buy it?

Of course, she would if he played his cards right! Maybe she would feel sorry enough for him that she'd escort him during their Head Boy and Girl rounds? Couldn't hex him to oblivion and call him _Potter_ when he was a victim, could she?

His mind reeled with his latest plot. 

_Can't wait to tell Pads about this one. It's bloody brilliant!_

_Ingenious_ , was what Sirius would say.

His grin deepened at the thought of his best mate. Sirius had promised to cover for him this morning in case he felt like staying up a bit longer. Mummy Potter adored Sirius Black in a way that sickened James. Not even his own mother had ever kissed _his_ forehead adoringly when he was being cheeky. The Marauder was practically one of the family now, had been since his wicked family disowned him.

He scowled. The only being on this planet James Potter hated more than Lord Voldemort was Walburga Black.

Several more skydives and interweaving loops in the air later, and James was once more sitting on top of the world, high above the hidden family manor and Godric's Hollow below. The village was finally waking up, he noticed while stretching his arms out to pop his back. The Hollow was as small as it had been when his father was his age. It never changed in a way James envied.

While there were parts of his life he would do anything to change—such as having Lily Evans speak three civil words to him—in truth, James loved consistency. There was even comfort in Lily's continual rejection and denial of his attentions just as much in the three mates that would be part of his life until death did part them.

He didn't like things to disturb the few things in life he called sacred, which was the main reason hated Voldemort. 

A frown marred the simple joy he'd felt moments before.

The Dark Wizard's power was growing. While the Daily Prophet wasn't entirely trustworthy, not a day went by without some report of his activities, or of the lives destroyed that stood in his path.

James hated the man with a passion and tried not to think about how soon he and the other Marauders would have to do their part.

Dad had already hinted to him Dumbledore might induct him into the Order after graduation.

 _The sooner the better_ , in his opinion.

He'd already made up his mind about the future, and he would do whatever it took to protect it. Nothing in all seven hells was going to keep him from what he wanted.

James' eyes narrowed in confusion, hands guiding his broom lower.

Someone was running from Godric's Hollow and across his back yard. 

He frowned, cursing himself for not grabbing his wand before leaving the house.

_How did they get past the outer wards?_

Whoever this was they weren't running very fast, they reeked of too much magic, and they were wearing something bright red.

His eyes widened, mouth gaped when he recognized it was _blood_.

James quickly scanned the fields behind but saw no sign of pursuers and so focused once more on the girl.

It _was_ a girl, he was near enough to notice, though her hair was matted with blood and her body wrapped in a cloak too heavy for summer. Even more disturbing was that her clothes looked soaked through.

He hadn't heard the unmistakable _pop_ of Apparition anywhere nearby and James always sensed wherever strong magic was conjured. For all intents and purposes, he was beginning to believe this girl had appeared literally out of _air_. Like she was truly made of nothing, the girl began to waver on her unsteady feet.

James shouted the moment her legs buckled and the Witch fell an undignified heap just within the wards of his home.

Tilting his Nimbus at a steep angle, James dove from his perch, faster than before, only slowing in time to make a rushed arc over the grass. He jumped off his broom with ease and crashed to his knees at the girl's side. A messy wound clotted at the back of her head and ran down her face. 

Something in his chest clenched painfully as he watched her chest rise and fall too shallowly.

There was no doubt who had been the cause of this.

James turned the girl onto her back, intending to scoop her up in his arms without delay, and ground out the harshest of curses under his breath. Glass shards stuck out from her chest and mangled hand. 

_Are those chunks of gold?_

Fear clutched him, powerfully and surprisingly. Not for what those bastards had done to her, but because she might not make it through the next hour.

Gritting his teeth, James wrapped her up in the folds of her robe before climbing to his feet.

She was even lighter than he'd expected, and she easily fit against his broad chest. James kept an eye on her as he whispered the words that let him through his father's inner house wards without harm, and ran the rest of the way to the front door. Her features were masked by blood and carpet thick hair, but he couldn't help but try to see past the grime. She was young, his age at the most, though there were a few worry lines about her eyes that made her seem older.

Whoever she was he intended to find out as soon as she could tell him.

Whoever she was, he was going to make certain Voldemort and his little _fucks_ never touched her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a bit of a hiatus between updates while working on my original fics, plus catching up on The Red Hood. But I'm excited to jump back into the world of ADSM as I revise and repost these chapters. Thanks so much to everyone who's read and continues to comment! Feel free to chat with me on the story, Jamione, or anything else that suits your fancy :)

**Author's Note:**

> Review: If you fancy :)


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